Earth
1914 AD

4,432 years since initial death
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Maalik approached a place he once called home.

He stopped his horse below the English hills and looked up at the sky. It was a beautiful Winter morning, and the cold breeze blew against his back. Maalik carefully dismounted and listened to the grass crunch beneath his boots. His dark coat rippled in the wind as he stood with folded arms to brace the crisp air.

Step after step, he ascended the hill. He followed a non-existent path that had long since been abandoned as nature reclaimed what humanity took from it. There were no traces of his past anywhere, nor was there anything that reminded him of what took place here.

Upon reaching the top of the hill, he was met with a large flat surface of nothing but grass. The view from up here was the only sense of familiarity that was left to comfort him. Oddly enough, only one stone marker remained up here. He tried to remember what it could have belonged to, but nothing came to mind. Was it part of a column or a wall that collapsed?

Whatever it may have been, it was now the last remaining remnant of Cadbury Castle.

Maalik placed a hand over the marker and felt the rough texture and closed his eyes. Within the haunting silence that surrounded him, he could faintly hear the echoes of distant chatter. The quiet neighing of horses, and the clattering of steel from the local blacksmith. A bell sounded in the chapel, and children laughed.

"Welcome back, Merlin." The voice of an ancient king muffled in his ears, and Maalik opened his eyes. He paced around the hillfort in an eerie silence again as all the noises stopped. He came to a halt, and looked around him once more. Finally, he shivered.

He gently lowered himself to the ground and laid back against the grass. His eyes stared at the clouds up above. Slowly but surely, fragments of winter befell him, and the first sign of snowfall began.

It snowed all around him, and he felt the cold embrace of each flake that delicately landed atop his skin and melted. The comfort he had hoped to feel didn't last as long as he wanted, and the weight of the world collapsed over him again.

A tear escaped his eye. He stayed motionless as his emotions loosened. He hated how much he tired from this never-ending life.

What followed next was his return to his own past.

He journeyed across the vastness of Europe. Every place he encountered in his travels rung a form of familiarity that he hadn't felt in centuries. He arrived in France, and he purchased a Renault-brand automobile with some money he had saved. It surprised him just how much he favored these machines after centuries of horse riding.

His next stop was Orléans, and he came to see the city's maiden again. He slowly drove by as his eyes looked upon a girl that had influentially altered his life. Joan of Arc was on horseback, her sword drawn and pointed upwards to lead the charge. Even in the form of a statue, her presence gave him goosebumps.

Next on his trip would have been Madrid, but he decided against it. Instead, he visited Italy. First was Venice, then was Florence. As he sat on a public bench and watched the people walk by, he thought of how many relatives he had here. Kara had children, and as long as they continued the bloodline, he would be a centuries old grandfather to someone here.

Many more places included the remnants of Pompeii, the ruins of the Temple of Apollo in Delphi, and parts of the Middle East. Egypt was on his mind, but he never returned. He couldn't face that portion of his past after everything he had done.

He needed something to do, anything to reclaim his purpose in this world. In Baghdad, he rested inside a small tea shop. The communities here were still behind with evolution as some districts in the city had yet to receive any light nor electricity. He enjoyed a flavorful tray of falafel, small and round delights that tasted great with hummus and a glass of black tea with sugar.

As he talked to the locals, he heard news of conflict. The Ottoman Empire had gotten a large portion of the Middle East involved with a war that had spread across all of Europe. Over thirty nations declared a state of war in the largest hostility he had seen yet.

Some called it 'The War to End All Wars'. Upon hearing that, Maalik finally laughed for the first time since London. He knew there was no such thing, war was mainly a common hobby for the human race.

It was too significant to pass up. He needed to do some good in this world, and what better than to partake in the war to end all wars?

There were too many sides to choose, and it seemed the whole world had gotten dragged into the conflict. Germany was at the top of it all, rising to great power above the other nations and declaring war against alliances. Meanwhile, the Ottoman Empire was on the verge of collapse, and they desperately clung onto life. Maalik was surprised they lasted this long anyways, it had been six-hundred years since they first emerged.

Maalik returned to Italy, and he made the decision to join the Italians. This meant a new chapter of his life, and therefore, it came with an identity change. He became Matteo Settimio, and he did what he knew best in life. He fought for years to come.

Initially, he joined Italy under the knowledge that they sided with Germany and the Austro-Hungarians. But they switched allegiances, and the Austro-Hungarians focused all their efforts into defeating the Italians.

Eventually in 1918, the war had reached what many believed to be the end, with Italy holding one of the heaviest pillars of defense in the vast mountain peaks of Monte Grappa. After almost a year of the Austrians and Germans attempting to take control, the fight over this area escalated.

Caves were constructed underneath the giant rocks, artillery was formed over the valleys, any isolated structures and homes were completely fortified and barricaded. The Italian defense was remarkable, practically impenetrable. Matteo helped them push the enemy back on multiple occasions, and now it seemed the Austrian-Hungarians were willing to hold one final attempt to push the allies back.

After spending most of the war on the ground, either acting as infantry or support in the armored tanks, he was finally able to fight from the skies. His previous flight training proved successful, and Matteo was assigned a gunner alongside his plane. 

The amazing and beautiful view of the mountains and valleys only served as a distraction during a time where all focus was of utmost importance. Only around a hundred feet off the ground, Matteo was dangerously low. As he yanked the throttle to pull up, he found that he wasn't gaining any altitude. The mountain's peak only rose in front of him, keeping him at risk of crashing head-on.

Incoming gunfire from behind nearly tore his wings, some of which even grazed his tail. "Pull!" The gunner in the back screamed at the top of his lungs. Less than a hundred feet now, they were about to crash. German aircrafts were right behind them, continuously firing aggressively. They had to take evasive maneuvers.

"What do you think I'm doing?" Matteo's frustration only led to increased anger. He continued to pull as hard as he possibly could. They started to gain altitude, but it wasn't enough. The Austrian biplanes arrived from the side in the Germans' aid.

The tip of the mountain was right ahead of them, and the Italian biplane barely made it past without getting hit. Immediately, he jammed the throttle forward, nearly snapping it. The plane dangerously took a dive down the mountain for a few meters and gained a sudden and tremendous amount of speed. When he pulled up, he flew directly towards the open sky.

From here, he could see everything.

Valleys of green grass, grey stones and white ice stretched indefinitely into the vast horizon. It would have been beautiful, was it not for the mortars that left trails of smoke in the air and shook the Earth in powerful explosions. Heavy steel machines rolled across the smooth terrain while hundreds of men charged into a frenzy. Automatic rifles, pistols, explosives, grenades, heavily armored war vehicles, flying machines; Matteo thought he'd seen it all. One weapon from this era could have wiped out an entire battalion of knights from the Middle Ages.

The evolution of mankind, and their addiction to war and combat reached levels he never knew were possible. The thought of it all terrified him, yet it also intrigued him.

He focused on the battle and turned the plane sideways. They were still being tailed, and his gunner unleashed a barrage of gunfire. A plane beside them burst into flames after being shredded by artillery bombardment and dropped out of the sky. Matteo expected that outcome for himself, but his gunner didn't deserve that kind of death.

Planes buzzed, propellors whizzed, gunfire popped, artillery thundered, screams echoed. Pure insanity is what Matteo had to endure as he shook his pursuers with drastic turns and loops. He waited and hoped his gunner could shoot them down.

An explosion rattled behind him, and a heavy buzz descended beneath them. Matteo looked behind him, his gunner actually got them. He cheered, and his copilot joined him.

"What did I tell you?" Matteo shouted and looked ahead. "Heirs to the air, baby! Ain't this grand?"

Every daunting memory that had ever haunted him was gone. Up here, nothing could reach him. For a moment, he forgot about the war around him. Every chance he got to admire his surroundings, he took it. He hadn't laughed this much in a terribly long time.

Then, he got hit. The artillery finally caught up to them, tearing apart their left wing until it completely blew up. With a fire now beginning to spread, the shattered wing detached from the biplane.

"Dios mio!" The gunner screamed. They spiraled out of control and lost altitude fast. It was impossible to maneuver the plane any longer.

"Bail!" Matteo yelled, and he reached for a parachute. When he looked behind him, the gunner was gone. Whether or not he had jumped or was violently ejected by the plane's erratic spinning, it didn't matter. As he tried to grab his parachute, the plane shifted suddenly and his head struck the throttle. He yelled in pain, accidentally letting go of the parachute as it fell into the air.

All hope for survival was gone. Matteo stared at the mountain ahead and sighed. He crashed and blew up in a shattering explosion that left behind a blazing inferno of death and destruction.

Often times, Matteo has wondered where he would wake up after each passing. It always depended on what happened to his body. If he was left undisturbed, he'd return in the same spot as before. At sea, the waves would drift him along until his waking. Or perhaps a stranger would stumble upon his corpse and drag him away.

When Matteo opened his eyes next, he expected to remain inside the wreckage of his biplane. However, he was instead met with a warm and dark environment. Laid over a mattress inside a logged cabin, a fireplace illuminated the scene as a mug of tea rested on a desk beside him. Most surprising of all was the woman that sat opposite of him.

She stared at him with hazel eyes, a hand brushed aside the strands of long dark hair that stuck to her face. Her tall and slim figure looked familiar, and she looked at him with an expression that seemed heartfelt and relieved.

He tried to speak, but she beat him to it. "You're finally awake."

He recognized her voice. The beating in his heart accelerated as she continued.

"For a moment, I thought your immortality had ended."

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Historical Notes:

There are over 30 different events that contributed to the start of WWI. Most notably, the assassination of Archduke Franz Ferdinand is known as the spark that started the war. However, other major events such as the German invasion in Belgium caused Britain to join the war, and European rivalries over territories and alliances formed an outbreak in tensions.

"A German Fighting Monoplane Flying Very Near the Ground Photographed from Directly Underneath", January 1st, 1917

Alongside four of the most common types of aéroplanes (reconnaissance, fighters, bombers, trench strafers), tethered observation balloons and behemoth zeppelins were also deployed into the skies during war.

Before machine gun mounted turrets were installed in fighter planes, pilots would resort to shooting enemy aircrafts with pistols or rifles.

Germany was far ahead of the Allied forces in terms of technological advancements in warfare. The Germans were able to construct the "Biggest Gun in the World" named Lange Max. It was an artillery gun capable of firing 750kg shells a distance of up to 50km (31 miles).

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